


Her Handsome Hero

by onceuponrumbelle



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Episode: s05e17 Her Handsome Hero, F/M, Fix-It of Sorts, Fluff, Hopeful Ending, Smut, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-10
Updated: 2016-04-10
Packaged: 2018-06-01 11:53:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6517603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onceuponrumbelle/pseuds/onceuponrumbelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And that was it. She had her answer. She had a way to journey to her True Love’s side. Price be damned, Belle ventured into the Underworld. </p><p>A reworking of Swan Song up to Her Handsome Hero. Belle discovers that Rumple has left for the Underworld to save Hook. Once she finds him, a secret is revealed, a discovery made, and Gaston shows up to ruin the moment. Mild Smut and Angst. Lots of Fluff (at least I think it's fluff).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> Nearly the entirety of this story was written before 5B even aired on TV, so most of this was speculation, as well as what I whished to see happen. This story is based off of BTS pictures from filming for 5x17 "Her Handsome Hero". I've been working on this for nearly three months now, trying to perfect it as much as I possibly can, and this was the best I could come up with. It's not my greatest work, but I hope you can get some semblance of enjoyment from this. If you liked it, even just a little bit, please leave a kudos or a comment. It would be soul-crushing to not receive any feedback considering this is my first published Rumbelle story and I've been worrying over it for weeks now. 
> 
> I do not own nor am I in any way affiliated with Once Upon A Time or ABC.

She awoke from her deep slumber and found herself burrowing deeper underneath the covers when she realized just how warm they were. She sighed in contentment and felt a smile tugging at the corners of her lips at the recollection of what had led to this long and blissful sleep. Shifting her torso around in search of more comfort, Belle French, or rather Belle Gold, – she had to keep reminding herself of that – felt an all too pleasant ache in her limbs at the movement and she felt a tremor shake her shoulders as she recalled brief flashes of her and Rumple’s fervent love-making.

It had been fierce and passionate, and while she was more often than not reduced to a shuddering, weak-limbed mess after their intimacy, the intensity this time around had been brimming with such love and lust and ecstasy that it had left her with a persistent force tugging at her eyelids afterwards. They seldom made love so ferociously that it left her cordially sore and exhausted but their desires for one another had been fueled by the knowledge that they had been apart for so long and had endured so much in their relationship over the past year.

Belle was grateful to Henry for his intervention the night before; she had been driving through the thick forest of Maine and while she should have been exhilarated as she passed the town line and entered the Land Without Magic – her dreams to explore the vast wonders of the world finally becoming a reality – she hadn’t felt anything but this unpleasant sensation quelling in her chest. She had doubted the entire way if she could really leave Rumple behind like this. If she could truly part herself from her True Love and explore the world without him. And in that moment she had realized that her biggest ambition was not to explore the world, but to be with Rumplestiltskin.

It should have been her own soul-driven revelation that made her turn the Black Cadillac back around towards Storybrooke instead of her step-grandson’s call, but nevertheless, it was his words that had driven her to the realization that she couldn’t be without Rumple, and she had returned to him, and now they were together again and that wall all that mattered.

It had registered in her racing mind as she sped back towards the town line that he had let her leave knowing he’d never see her again. He had restrained his love for her so furiously and she had seen the fire of it in his eyes when he told her to leave; it hadn’t made sense at the time but as she drove back to him it all seemed to click together and she was in awe of his selflessness and felt tears brimming in her eyes. She had felt disgusted with herself the moment she told him she didn’t want to make it work at the well, but the feelings were tenfold when she grasped that everything he had done was for her and everything she had said had been for herself.

But none of it seemed to matter when she entered the shop and found him sulking in the back because the moment their lips met everything between them had been forgiven, all of his wrongdoings and all of her own. None of it had mattered anymore.

She harbored the memories of their kisses as she laid here under the covers, the taste of scotch still faintly evident in her mouth from the passionate caresses of his tongue and with an unbidden swarm of memories, she reminisced what occurred after they kissed in the shop.

_They parted their lips for air and she told him how much she wanted him and that he should take her home. He smiled adoringly at her for that, and with a slight caper to his step he guided her out of the shop and they were driving towards their salmon-colored home. They entered into the lofty entryway and Belle felt like she would fall apart if he didn’t hold her in his arms. He had barely managed to remove his overcoat and hang it on its hook before she was pressing her body flush against his, seeking the warmth of his mouth. They shared gentle, sipping kisses as they caressed each other and she nearly burst with glee when he slipped the pink overcoat off her shoulders and tossed it onto a nearby chair._

_They seemed to share a silent declaration in their eyes because he didn’t lead her upstairs to their bed; she knew it would only make things more complicated and he seemed to understand that and agree as he searched her eyes. Encasing her in his arm (oh, how she had missed those arms), he gently pulled her with him down the hallway and into a spare bedroom that was never used much. She groaned when he pulled away from her to start a fire in the hearth but he just chuckled, loosening his tie and slipping off his shoes as he did so. She unwound her scarf from around her neck and began to divest her own clothes until he turned back to her, resuming those sipping kisses that made her stomach do little flips._

_She couldn’t deny she was well aware this would be their first time making love without the presence of his curse and she was positively thrilled at that particular notion. She deepened their kisses by slipping her tongue between his lips and ridding him of any clothing she could reach between their bodies._

_“Are you sure, sweetheart?” he questioned in a gentle whisper and when she nodded yes he seemed to lose that small shred of hesitation he had held. If she was soulfully honest with herself, she was somewhat hesitant, too. Getting her heart broken had become something of a pattern as of late and she didn’t want to risk continuing that streak. But she had to remind herself this time was different; he was no longer the Dark One and his heart was free from its corruption._

_Rumple slipped his own tongue in her mouth and he tore at the rest of her clothes, stroking the skin as it was laid bare by the deft movements of his hands and soon they were reclining onto the guest bed. They hadn’t been intimate since before his banishment, oh so long ago, and something about these kisses, these caresses, their frantically whispered endearments, they somehow seemed foreign and Belle could only surmise that it was from their long separation._

_She knew this was right, though: she and him, together. Here, in their home, with these feelings and this love. They were meant to be together. They always were. They were True Love._

_It was one of those oddly out-of-place moments where she couldn’t help but thank the Gods – and then curse herself for thanking them – for making Rumplestiltskin the Dark One because it allowed him to live beyond a normal human’s life expectancy. He lived through hundreds of years so they could exist together in the same time; they were made for each other, just born in different generations, and that had been the way to bridge the gap._

_Caressing the back of her head in his palm, Rumple carded his fingers through her hair and she reciprocated the action, fingers sweeping through the silky brown strands with hints of silver. She breathed in the scents that made him so special, that made him her Rum: scotch and cologne and aftershave and something else that was indecipherable to her but always accompanied him._

_She was grateful Rumple had laid them down on the mattress because as he pulled away the final barrier of clothing between them and pressed a passionate kiss to her lips, her knees trembled at his touch and she would have fell if she had been standing. She had faith he would have caught her though. He always did._

_They teased one another eagerly with their mouths, mapping one another’s bodies with their tongues and their lips, but it wasn’t long before their desires had reached its crescendo and they made love in earnest over and over again, riding their waves of pleasure together until they could take no more._

_Their orgasms had intertwined for the final time that night and Rumplestiltskin had collapsed on top of her, careful to keep most of his weight off. He pulled out of her and cradled her into his chest, whispering sweet nonsense into her ear as he stroked clumsy patterns across the skin of her back, but she was so utterly exhausted that sleep was already pulling her under and that was the last things she remembered._

Until now. And the thought of her handsome love caused her to turn over so she could snuggle into his warmth but her hand only met the cool bedsheets where his body should have been. Blinking away the sleep from her eyes, she sat up, observing the darkened room. One glance at the window indicated it was now twilight outside and she had slept half the day away.

“Rumple?” she called groggily. She noticed the fire in the hearth had been extinguished and as her eyes adjusted to the darkness she could see that the door was open that she had taken the liberty of shutting before (more out of habit than of worriment over being caught naked in bed together).

“Sweetheart?” she called again. Belle reluctantly slid out of the warm sheets, the cool night air causing goosebumps to emerge on her arms and legs and she quickly dressed in the grey tunic she had been wearing before; it would have to do until she found something more appropriate to wear from the upstairs bedroom.

She remembered that ever since their wedding and up to his banishment she would find him in their library most nights if he wasn’t beside her in bed, so she worked her way through the house, turning on lights as she went, until she reached the darkened library at the back of the Victorian home. Ever since the combined tragedies of Baelfire’s death and his year-long imprisonment at the hands of Zelena, Rumple was constantly plagued with nightmares. This is where she would find him when he wasn’t beside her, sitting here in the dark with a bottle of scotch clutched tightly in his hand. More often than not she had found herself venturing to his side, easing the bottle out of his palm and cradling his head against her heart as he cried into her chest.

She quietly called his name again but when she peeked her head inside she found the room to be unusually vacant. She moved over to the staircase, ascending the creaking wood until she made it to their bedroom. Turning on the light, she was surprised that Rumplestiltskin wasn’t there, but even more surprising was the piece of parchment lying on the carefully made bedspread. Belle felt a swell of apprehension fill her chest as she stepped forward with curiosity and picked up the rough-textured paper. Her True Love’s elegant calligraphy flowed seamlessly across the page and she felt a sudden worry fill her chest as she unfolded it and began to read.

_~_

_Sweetheart, You have no doubt noticed my absence. I hope you have slept well and that you thoroughly enjoyed our time together. I certainly did. Those few moments in the shop and all the time we shared in that damned guest bed will stay close to my heart for the rest of my existence. I thought it impossible, but I love you even more than I did a week ago. You still continue to astound me, my darling Belle. You had the chance to escape from this accursed town and all of the heartache I’ve caused you. You had a chance to explore the wonders of the world. Yet you came back to me. I will never understand it, but I am truly grateful none the less._

_You have given my life, my very existence, a meaning. You’ve saved me from the darkness and from myself more times than I could ever count and I will forever be in your debt for that. I was never able to give you what you deserve, no matter how long or how hard I tried, no matter how many chances you gave me. But I did try, I promise you that, and if given the chance, I will continue to try._

_Please let me explain where I am sweetheart, and why I have left, because I do not want you to worry and I most certainly do not want you to misunderstand my reasons for leaving. I should have woken you to tell you this but I was afraid of seeing your reaction. I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to stop you from coming if you knew where I intended to go. You remember what young Henry told you on the phone? About Hook’s plan to send us all to the Underworld and how this plan of his ultimately failed? Miss Swan was cleaved from the darkness but at the expense of her pirate’s life. I had a little chat with her in the shop while you were still sleeping and after careful consultation, Regina, the Charmings, Robin Hood, and I skeptically agreed to journey into the Underworld with Emma to save the damned pirate._

_I don’t like him, especially after the pain he’s caused you, but the only way for them to enter into the Underworld is with my blood, being that I am the only person who was there and escaped (thanks to you and Bae). While I have a certain abhorrence at the notion of Hook replacing Baelfire for both Emma and Henry, they care for him, and I care for them, so I will do what I can to save the pirate. Who knows? Maybe this centuries old feud between us will finally end._

_I can imagine you must be incredibly upset, sweetheart. No one decides your fate but you and I seem to have left you option-less in this matter. I am deeply sorry. Having been to this place before, I couldn’t bear to lead you into such horrors. I will do everything I can to come home to you, my love. I realize that we have been separated too many times, and if I make it back, I can assure you that we will never be separated again, in any world or any realm, unless you wish it. However, just in case I am not able to return to you, I want you to know something._

_There are no words, no actions, and no amount of time that could make up for the pain I have caused you. I know you tire of hearing my apologies, but none the less I am deeply, truly, and whole-heartedly sorry, Belle. You deserve so much better than me. You are too perfect and forgiving and beautiful for this world, or any world, and if I make it back to you I promise I will tell you each and every day how grateful I am to you, for your support, your forgiveness, your strength, and your love. No one ever has nor ever will exist that comes close to comparing to you, my beautiful Belle._

_In case this is goodbye, I love you, Belle French. Gods, I love you. My beautiful wife. My True Love. I love you. More than anything I love you and I would have spent the rest of my miserable life trying to make you happy, and if I return to you, I will. Thank you for giving me your heart and your trust countless times despite my knack for breaking both. I will cherish every second that I’ve spent with you and I will not stop thinking about you while I’m gone. And, if I am to die in the Underworld, the last thing I will see, the last thing I will hear, will be you, Belle. Always. I will die a hero if I must, for you. And for Bae._

_I love you, Belle. I love you, I love you, I love you._

_Yours in life and death, forever and always,_

_Rumplestiltskin_

~

Belle’s eyes skimmed across his name and she was grateful she had sat down on the mattress when she began to read because now she had no strength left in her body to sit up, let alone stand. The tears that had silently slipped down her cheeks through his letter now exemplified and the parchment slipped from her fingers. Lying on her side and curling into herself, she heaved heavy sobs and clutched her hands to her unbearably aching chest.

This couldn’t be the end. It couldn’t. Rumplestiltskin told her he may return to her one day, but she knew him better than that. He was trying to provide hope, for them both, when he knew he would never return to her. He would either be stuck there or he would die. And he knew this even as he wrote the letter to her. She understood why he left her behind and while she appreciated his concern with all of her heart, she couldn’t help but be upset with him at the same time. No one decided her fate but her.

And then the craziest idea entered Belle’s mind, but she knew that if she could find a way, she would go, and from that moment she was set with determination. Regardless of what Rumplestiltskin wished, she spent weeks in the shop or the library, poring over book after book, searching for some ritual or incantation that could lead her to her True Love. She didn’t have Regina or Rumple to help with this particular issue, leaving her to ask the Blue Fairy for help. But her pleas were refuted; the only way to journey to such a place would involve Dark Magic, which Blue would have no part of. So Belle French spent nearly every waking moment, alone, searching for a way to the Underworld.

She told herself that the only reason she wanted to go was so that she could be with him, but part of it was to chew him out for making this decision for her. They had been separated far too often and it was time they were finally together.

It was two weeks after she read Rumple’s letter that her bout of sickness hit. It was sudden and unexpected but she knew her frayed emotions had begun to take their toll on her. She was grateful for those rare days where she was able to start researching bright and early in the morning; leaning over the porcelain bowl in the bathroom to empty her stomach grew tedious after a while. It seemed her temper had increased too. When she wasn’t furious from coming home empty-handed at the end of a long day researching, she curled up on their bed and cried herself to sleep, clutching the pillow that smelt like him tightly to her chest.

It wasn’t until a whole, solitary month had passed since his abrupt departure that she finally found her answer, just when she felt close to giving up. She had rummaged through every shelf in the library, every secret compartment in the shop, every room in their home, skimming through book after book. She had been looking through one of the last stacks of ancient volumes in the back of the shop when all of her efforts finally paid off.

And that was it. She had her answer. She had a way to journey to her True Love’s side. Price be damned, Belle ventured into the Underworld.


	2. Part 2

Belle should have been surprised to find that the Underworld was almost perfectly identical to the real Storybrooke, but she had read much about this realm; what ones had garnered from dreams and visions and recorded in tomes from long ago. She was grateful Rumplestiltskin collected such rare books, or she never would have found a way to him, much less what this place held in store for her when she arrived.

One moment she was surrounded by the cool night air of Storybrooke and a blink later she was standing on the docks in the nearly identical town of the Underworld, the bolstering morning sun shining down on her face.

Knowing where Rumple would be if they were home, in the real Storybrooke, she strode down Main Street, past the fallen clock tower that used to be atop the library, and towards the crumbling building with a disheveled sign reading “Mr. Gold’s Pawnshop”.

Removing her gloves and stuffing them in the pocket of her overcoat, she turned the handle and pushed open the door. The jingle of the small bell sounded over her head and it seemed unusual to hear such a cheerful sound in a place like this.

Belle felt a swell of adoration tighten in her chest when she shifted her gaze and was met with the sight of her handsome husband bent over the counter, examining a strange-looking artifact that he was tinkering with in his hands.

“I told you, dearie,” even though he was still looking down at the object, she could see the smug smile curving his lips, “I –” he dropped the artifact he was observing when his eyes finally met hers, a loud thud reverberating through the room as the object clattered across the glass countertop.

“Belle?” he whispered in confusion, but that voice – the one she had been aching to hear for what seemed like forever – was also laced with such fervor and affection that she couldn’t resist anymore and the invisible, magnetic pull that seemed to exist between them drew them closer to one another. His eyes, even from this distance, seemed to thicken, the dark shade almost immediately melting into a warm, golden-brown hue at the sight of her.

She had originally wished to smack him upside the head for making his decision without her – as well as making a decision for her – but she couldn’t find it in herself to even consider doing such a thing, not when he stood before her now and not when she had missed him so dearly.

“Rumple.”

She took quick steps towards him, seeking the solace that she had only ever found in his arms, but hindered her advancement when she noticed his features tense and he jerked away from her at the last moment.

“Who…who are you? Whose cruel trick is this?”

“It’s not a trick, Rumple. It’s really me,” she assured him. She tried to wrap her husband in her arms, but he pulled away again. She couldn’t blame him for being so hesitant (she was just as much surprised as him that she was actually here) but it still hurt to see her affection refuted.

“It’s not possible. My Belle – _the real Belle_ – is in Storybrooke.”

“It’s me, Rum,” she spoke with love in her voice and her eyes shone with conviction. She knew there was only one course of action she could take to convince him otherwise. Tentatively, she placed a hand on his arm, stepping closer to him. “Please…you just have to believe in us,” she echoed her words from so long ago when she tried to help him escape from Zelena’s clutches. Her sentiment seemed to have the desired effect because a look of something akin to surprise and mixed happiness seemed to pass over his face and she could see the tension drain from his body.

She lifted her other hand to caress his cheek and brushed aside a few strands of hair that were threateningly to intrude upon his eye, before gently stroking his jaw with her fingers. Rumple’s brown orbs disappeared beneath his eyelids as they fluttered shut in bliss and he pressed closer into her hand. Belle took this as a sign that she could continue, so she tilted her head up and captured his lower lip between her own. He immediately melted into the kiss, wrapping his arms around her waist as their kiss intensified, tongues gently teasing and probing. She smiled fondly into his mouth.

“Oh, Belle,” he murmured, pressing his forehead against hers after they parted, “it’s really you. How…how is this possible?”

“I found a way. I won’t let anything keep us apart ever again,” her words seemed to move him and they shared another searing kiss while clutching onto one another.

“I missed you.”

“I missed you, too, sweetheart,” he caressed her cheek, his thumb gently brushing across her skin. He kept silent for a moment and she watched as his eyes traced the contours of her face before finally settling on her eyes. She couldn’t shake the weak feeling in her knees as Rumple’s brow creased with adoration and he smiled warmly as he looked upon her. “How is it possible that you look even more beautiful than you did the last time I saw you?” she slightly blushed at his words but found herself moving deeper into his arms nonetheless.

“Of course,” he continued, a smirk tugging at his lips, “I’m not sure I could compare how you look now to how you looked before I left: in my arms –” he tugged at her earlobe gently with his lips, “– naked.”

She laughed and smiled up at him coquettishly through her thick lashes; she missed this, their sexual banters and their endearments. It was a side of him that was only reserved for her and therefore she was the only one who was aware of it. No one else in Storybrooke or the Enchanted Forest had any idea that this man, the ruthless pawnbroker, dealmaker, and former Dark One, could be so romantic and sensual. Of course, Belle couldn’t imagine him any other way.

He pulled his lips away from the delicate skin of her ear and she was melting under the loving gaze he cast upon her. “Now,” he grasped ahold of her hands, “I desperately would like to know how my beloved wife found her way down here.”

So Belle explained the pain-staking process she went through to find a way to him, the countless, tiring hours she spent poring over books and spells, the lonely nights and the many tears she shed from his absence. She explained with a passionate fury how upset she was over the note he left, and how after all of the separations they had endured, it was time they were finally together, no matter where or in what circumstance.

“Why did you leave me behind?” She questioned. He pulled her into his chest, resting his chin against the top of her head, breathing in her scent and she breathed in his own. “Oh, sweetheart…I’m so sorry. It was a last minute decision to even come here. Knowing this place, and all its evils, I could never subject you to such a place.”

She was about to retort that she decided her own fate, and seeming to read her mind, he quickly continued.

“I know I don’t have any say over how you live your life. I should have told you and let you decide for yourself. And for that I’m sorry. Truly, truly sorry,” he kissed her head, “I was also afraid to leave after tell–” he halted his words abruptly, as if he was about to spill a secret and caught himself at the last second.

“Afraid of what?” she pulled back, looking upon her husband with concern. He cast his eyes down to the ground in shame, taking a step away from her.

“Rumple?”

With a small sigh and reluctance warping his posture he retreated behind the counter and leaned down to retrieve something. A sinking feeling entered Belle’s stomach as she took several tentative steps towards the counter to see what he was reaching for. Rumple pulled out an object wrapped in a piece of fabric, setting it down on the counter between them. She noticed his hands trembling as he began to unwrap the hidden object slowly. She heard his nervous breaths and knew something was terribly wrong.

_Why did she have this sinking feeling that she already knew what was beneath that fabric?_

Rumplestiltskin looked up at her, carefully calculating her face as he pulled back the last barrier of cloth. Tears began to fill her eyes and bile rose in the back of her throat as she gazed down at the Dark One’s dagger with her husband’s name once again engraved onto the metal. She noticed that the dagger appeared different, darker and slightly more edged, but she honestly couldn’t care to consider why at the moment. She was struck with an incredible, soul-crushing pang of agony as she realized that this was just how their love would always be.

_Pain, lies, and betrayal._

“No,” she whispered in a broken voice. How could he chose to take back his power again? After everything they’d been through? After everything _he’d_ been through? How could she come back to him and he still felt that he couldn’t live without the power? She took a step away from the counter, broken, tear-filled eyes still trained onto Rumple’s ashamed figure.

“Belle, sweetheart, wait,” he begged, his eyes glistening with his own unshed tears. He moved to step around the counter and she took another step back.

“You chose your power over me? ... _Again_?” her voice broke on the last word and a sob was rising in her throat. She tried to force it down. She would not let this man reduce her to a sobbing mess. He had broken her heart countless times and she’d be damned if she let him break her strength too.

“No!” he cried and she almost believed the sincerity in his voice. This time he did move around the counter and quickly stepped towards her. “Belle. Please let me explain.” He tried to caress her face but she harshly pulled away and you would have to be blind to not see the heartbreak enter his eyes.

“Don’t.” She stepped back, her arms wrapping around herself as several stray tears began to slip from the confines of her eyes, but she didn’t wipe them away.

“Please, Belle! Please, just listen to me, it’s not what you think.”

“It’s _exactly_ what I think! I keep thinking that maybe I’m wrong, that you do love me more than your power, and yet you keep choosing it over me, Rumple!”

She trembled violently and turned to leave but this time Rumple managed to grab ahold of her.

“Stop!” she shrieked. He held onto her arm tightly and she struggled to get away. He managed to pull her closer, his other hand gripping ahold of her other arm to stay her.

“Let me –” he tried to begin.

“No!” she tried to free herself, to no avail.

“Please –”

“No!”

“I did this to be with you!” his voice rose several octaves so he could be heard over her repetitions.

“…W-what?” she questioned, baffled by his words, but then she was berating herself for falling for that. Rumplestiltskin did like to toy with words, as well as people. What was to say he wasn’t doing the same thing to her right now? Twisting his words to make her stay when in reality she wasn’t far from the truth: that he loved his power more than her.

“I swear to you on my son’s grave that I did this for us,” he remarked sternly with desperate and pained eyes. “If you’ll just let me explain. Please?”

She nodded her head after a moment, knowing that despite his curse, despite everything, he would _never_ swear on Baelfire’s grave unless he absolutely meant it.

Rumple loosened his grip on her arms. He explained that he had seen an opportunity to escape his newfound fate, to bypass the mark adorning his arm that sentenced him to this place. He explained how desperately he wanted to right all of the wrongs he had made regarding her, and in order to do that, he needed to remain in Storybrooke, in the real work, where she was.

He explained his thoughts from the night Hook died; how that so long as he was the Dark One, Charon might allow him to stay, to work the evils of the Dark One on the world. He confessed that he did not want that darkness to consume his heart again, but the thought of Belle drove him to do it.

“I know that you are better off without me, but I am so desperately in love with you, Belle, that the temptation was too great. I knew that so long as I was still in Storybrooke, I would fight for our love. If you didn’t come back after exploring the world, then I would have gone looking for you. No matter how long it took, no matter if you refused me in the end or had already moved on, I at least needed to see you, to tell you I had, and never would, stop loving you. That I was sorry. All of the things I should have said at the well or back in the shop before you left.”

Belle considered everything he said and couldn’t suppress the warmth that filled her chest. He may be the Dark One again, but he did it for her. She knew now with all of her heart that this was solely for them. She could see it in his eyes. She had a feeling about people, a feeling that made her believe he wasn’t a monster right from the very start, a feeling that lead to her falling in love with him, and that feeling was shouting to her now that he was telling the truth, that he did love her more than his power, and that he would do anything for her.

“I–” he winced, knuckling away some of the tears that still streaked down his face. “I understand…if you don’t believe me. If you don’t want to be with me anymore…I understand... truly… I’ll let you go. Just know…that I love you, with every fiber of my being, I deeply and truly love you, Belle. The deal I made with your father was the greatest thing that has ever happened in my entire existence, even if we won’t be together forever.”

He had remarkably kept his tears at bay during the course of their small fight, but now the tears were flowing freely and she could see the pain in his eyes, despite the small, broken smile he presented to her.

“It’s okay, my lo– …Belle. Go.” He inclined his head towards the door and released her arms. “Everyone’s in the mayor’s office,” he voice trembled and he cleared his throat before nervously continuing, “they, um – they’ll keep you safe.”

She carefully contemplated his words. He had done this, risked his life _again_ and gave up his freedom, so he could fight for their marriage, for their love, and she was rooted to the spot, frozen, as she grasped just how truly wonderful this man was.

Did he really expect her to give up on him so easily?

She supposed he did; not too long ago at their well wasn’t she the one who denied him a second chance, even when he had become everything she ever hoped he could be? What kind of message would that have sent to Rumple? Why should he ever trust in her unfailing love again?

She knew now that this time around she was the one who needed to prove her love, not him. And she intended to.

He had accepted her silence as an agreement to leaving and had already turned his back on her to move around the counter. She saw his shoulders trembling and heard a strangled sob that he had been fighting to hold back. And seeing her True Love fall apart as he accepted that their relationship was sincerely over crushed her heart more than anything in the world ever had.

She felt herself come to life again, a surge of love and warmth and adoration and pain and lust filling her chest at this wondrous, beautiful, selfless man.

“Rumple,” the loud clicks of her heels sounded out against the hardwood floor as he turned towards her. His face was contorted in agony (and Gods that look nearly made more sobs escape from her throat) so she threw her arms around his neck and fervently pressing her lips against his own.

_Gods, she loved this man. Her husband, her True Love, her very life._

He stumbled at the impact of her body against his but almost immediately succumbed to her. He released an unsuppressed sound of surprise and passion, his arms wrapping around her. They held onto each other so tightly they could scarcely breathe, but they never let go.

“Can you truly forgive me?” he murmured against her kisses.

She stroked away his tears with her fingers and she smiled into his soulful, brown eyes, “There’s nothing to forgive.”

They continued their furious kissing from only a moment ago, wide grins caressing their lips as they moved together, hands desperately caressing as much of each other as they could reach. Without having to speak, they both moved towards the backroom at the same time. He flicked his wrist as a hand came up to caress her cheek and she heard the locks to the front and back doors click into place as he secured a safe haven for them. Laughing against each other’s interlocked lips, they stumbled into the backroom like drunken teenagers.

“Make love to me, Rumple. Please,” she begged.

“Gladly,” his teasing voice caressed her ear as he took the lobe between his teeth and pulled gently, causing a little moan to reverberate around in the column of her throat.

Once in the relative safety and privacy of the backroom, Belle divested her overcoat, Rumple’s hands not far behind as he gripped the fabric of her mid-thigh length tunic and pulled it over her flowing tresses, her small, black beret coming off with it. His incredibly warm hands and adept spinner’s fingers brushed across her exposed skin and she trembled in his grip.

She slipped his suit jacket off of his shoulders, unbuttoning his waistcoat and divesting him of that as well.

“Too many layers,” she tsked and wondered how he could wear a three piece, sometimes four piece suit every single day, even in the summer.

“I could say the same for you, sweetheart,” he mumbled into her scalp as he breathed in the scent of her recently showered hair. She smirked, knowing full well that he considered her being in her bra and underwear as too many layers.

Her fingers moved across the skin of his chest as it became exposed, the flesh warm and smooth. Once the final layer covering his torso was gone, she titled her head back to get a look at him and couldn’t help the wetness that began to pool between her legs. A taunt stomach and muscular chest, with a small trailing of hair traveling from his navel to his sternum made up his strong torso. His pants looked so wonderfully tight, even if he wasn’t wearing those ridiculously tight (yet ridiculously attractive) leather breeches from the Enchanted Forest.

As he leaned his head down to suck on the skin of her throat, she ran a hand over the bulge in his trousers, squeezing his erection through the thick fabric before beginning to undo his belt buckle. Rumplestiltskin moaned her name, those incredible fingers quickly undoing the clasps that held her bra together and slipping the straps off of her shoulders. His hands trailed down her spine to her black stockings, slipping them down her legs. She toed off her knee high boots and kicked off her leggings as she finally unfastened the belt and unzipped his pants.

With only one final layer barring her hands from the protrusion in his boxer shorts she could feel the warmth of it through the fabric and a curling heat developed in the pit of her stomach. She pressed her thighs together tightly to alleviate some of the ache that was growing there. Rumple must have felt the proximity of her hands as well because he moaned against her neck where his lips were still devouring her skin. She would more than likely be covered in hickeys come tomorrow. Not that she had a problem with that.

_Let the whole bloody Underworld know who she belonged to._

She pushed his pants to the floor and he quickly stepped out of them, withdrawing his lips from her neck, and she was pleased she could look into those beautiful brown eyes again. She could never get enough of them. She could never get enough of _him_.

He pressed his forehead against hers, drawing breath against her face as he fought to refill his lungs with oxygen after a particularly furious kiss to her neck. They opted to stare into each other’s eyes for a moment as they always found themselves doing. It was the one place where she didn’t find any lies or deceit or interruptions or trivial matters. It was the one place where she could truly see his unfailing love for her, and where he could no doubt see her own reflected back to him.

Her fingers traveled from the waistband of his boxers, gently crossing the plane of his stomach, following the trail of hair up to his chest, teasingly pinching a nipple between her fingers with a wide smirk on her face, before they couldn’t contain themselves any longer and their lips met once again.

He gripped the waistband of her panties and pushed them down her legs and she finally managed to reach her hand between their bodies and remove the barrier between his cock and her eager hand. Belle released a strangled cry as Rumplestiltskin pressed their bodies together, his arousal, hard and hot and wet, was pressed into her stomach, and her belly was doing flips at the sensation. He pushed his tongue into her mouth and lifted her petite body off of the ground. She laughed gently against his lips, winding her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck.

Belle felt a profoundly pleasant ache fill her chest as her True Love wrapped one arm around her shoulders and the other underneath her bottom, caressing her skin gently as he moved over to the cot against the wall. His tongue stroked her teasingly before capturing her bottom lip between his own and kissing her deeply.

Cradling her in his arms, he climbed onto the cot, holding her to his chest as he laid back against the sheets with her straddling his thighs. A devious little thought crossed her mind that would have left her a blushing mess had she thought of it at any other time but at the moment she could only grin, anticipating his reaction. He groaned loudly against her lips when her fingers curled around the base of his cock, stroking his pulsing warmth in her grip. Separating their lips, she sat back on her knees, shifting all of her attention to his arousal. She couldn’t help releasing a small whimpering sound as precum started seeping from the tip and she was struck with a tenacious urge to taste his desire for her.

Brushing her thumb across the tip, she gathered his passion on the pad of her thumb, bringing it to her mouth for a taste. She sucked her thumb clean and her sweet husband nearly lost all control, his body trembling beneath her. She stroked him from base to tip, that devious little smirk present on her lips once again as she leaned forward and placed tender kisses to the tip. She peered up at him seductively through her thick, black lashes and found his handsome face contorted in pleasure, those wonderful brown eyes alight with love and passion and lust as he gazed back at her. She slipped the head of his hot cock into her mouth, her tongue swirling around the shaft as she suckled all of the juices out of him.

“Gods, Belle!” he released something akin to a growl as he sat up on the cot, bringing her into his arms, her core sliding deliciously against his length. He slipped his hand between her thighs to seek out her own passion and caressed the small bundle of nerves between his calloused fingers and now it was Belle’s turn to nearly come apart. He slipped two fingers between her folds, releasing a feral growl as he no doubt registered just how wet he was making her. He stroked her opening desperately, bringing his pointer and index finger wet with her wanton pleasure to his mouth, and he hummed as he tasted her.

“You taste incredible, my love.”

She gasped, her hands faltering on his cock between their stomachs, “Rumple… _please_.”

“Eager are we?” he teased and she wondered how he could remain so composed; she was practically losing her mind with lust.

“I – I need you inside of me, Rumple,” she gasped.

“Beautiful Belle,” he moaned in adoration as her fingers reaching between their bodies to grab ahold of his cock once more, shifting her hips so that she could lower herself onto him. He grabbed ahold of his arousal as well and they both guided his cock to her opening, her thrusting downwards and him thrusting upwards as their skin impacted. Rumple moaned and Belle sighed deeply and longingly and they both tilted their heads to embrace in a searing kiss as she sat in his lap, thrusting against each other in a tantalizing rhythm.

And while their tongues were fighting for dominance she could still taste his passion in her mouth and now her own passion from his tongue. The taste of herself and him mixed together in each other’s mouths and she swore she nearly orgasmed in his arms right then and there at that notion.

It didn’t take long before Belle felt the throes of her climax wash over her and she saw stars as she buried her face into her lover’s neck, crying his name. Her walls fluttered around him and then he was crying her own name into her ear, his hot seed filling her, and she smiled breathlessly, their numb limbs refusing to hold them up as they both collapsed in a heap. She was half splayed across his chest with his cock softening inside of her but she didn’t care and Rumple didn’t seem to mind either. She felt his arms loop around her back, cradling her trembling body into his chest as they fought to control their breathing while they laid in the afterglow of their passionate love-making. Belle felt a cool sheet flutter against her skin as Rumple conjured it over their exposed bodies.

After a while, Belle felt the tell-tale signs of discomfort due to the position she’d been in, so she shifted, lying beside her husband. He rolled over onto his side so they could look at each other and she felt a smile tug at the corner of her lips as he gazed upon her face in wonderment as he always did, as if Belle was a fantasy or a dream come to life, as if he couldn’t comprehend how she could be here beside him. It made her feel so wonderful; made her feel loved and wanted and desired and cherished and _Gods_ she loved that he loved her so.

Her handsome Rumplestiltskin reached his hand out and gently ran his fingertips across her cheekbone. He stroked the skin of her jaw, a thumb brushing across her lips and they couldn’t break their deep gaze into each other’s eyes even if their lives depended on it. Their faces are so close together (they’re practically sharing the same pillow) that Belle could see the patterns in the depths of his eyes and she was mesmerized by their beauty.

She was reminded of just how long it had been since she had truly gazed into his eyes like this. When they made love that morning she came back to Storybrooke she had been too exhausted to do much of anything other than sleep. She recalled sleeping half the day away, which was why when she awoke in the middle of the night, Rumplestiltskin was already gone. She cringed internally at the reminder of that terrible, month-long separation. She had missed him so, so greatly. His kisses, his caresses, his eyes, his hands, his voice, his scent… _everything_.

“You know,” she said with a laugh, disrupting the silence that had been hanging over the shop, “I spent _weeks_ in that library reading through book after book to find a way to you. I feel ashamed to admit this, but I was growing sick of my own library and I couldn’t bear to come home and pick up a good book to read before I went to bed…what?” A confused frown had rumpled his brow at her statement. She expected him to have some degree of surprise when she told him this, but not this look of worried befuddlement that was written on his face now.

“H-how long did you say you were researching?”

“A few weeks,” her brow furrowed in confusion at his question, “nearly a month.” Rumple inhaled sharply and that “deep-in-though” look passed over his face. She reached a hand out, caressing his warm cheek, “Rumple, what’s wrong?”

“How strange,” he shook his head, as if the thoughts were so muddled and filling up his brain that he couldn’t think straight. He sat up, running a hand through his hair and she followed suit, rubbing circles across his back with her palm as he contemplated something. “Time…it must function differently here somehow – must run slower than in reality – makes sense, I suppose,” he muttered mostly to himself as he thought aloud, and Belle’s hand faltered on his warm skin.

_Was he saying what she thought he was saying?_

“Rumple?”

“You say it’s nearly been a month for you, my love?” he turned to face her and she nodded yes. “For myself…I’m afraid only a week has passed.” Belle’s stomach sank as her fears were confirmed.

“A – a week?”

“Indeed…I’m so sorry, Belle. I never intended for us to be apart for so long. Truly. I’m sorry that it was a longer wait for you than for myself.”

She murmured that it was okay, giving him a gentle smile to prove it. And truthfully, it was. She didn’t like that an entire month had passed for her while only a week had for Rumple, but it didn’t really matter in the end. They were together now, and things could have been worse. He could’ve returned a year after departing to find twenty had passed in Storybrooke. Just the thought of that left Belle uneasy.

A sudden wave of nausea accompanied her unease, but thankfully it passed. She had spent nearly the entire month pouring out the contents of stomach back in Storybrooke and she had been so incredibly grateful when it stopped within the past week. She didn’t need this now. Especially since it would worry Rumple half to death.

With their bodies inclined towards one another, he took the opportunity to wrap one of his strong arms around her waist, leaning his head forward to kiss her.

“Gods, you’re beautiful,” he whispered. Their lips were only centimeters apart, the tips of their noses brushing together, when the nausea struck again, only this time much, much more persistently.

Jolting from the bed, she ran as fast as she could to the small bathroom in the corner of the shop, barely managing to life the lid and crouch down as she emptied her stomach. She heaved heavily and her diaphragm ached at the intensity of it all. Tears burned her eyes and her nose crinkled at the acrid smell.

She heard her husband call her name and a second later he was there, gathering her hair and pulling it to the side, his other hand stroking the skin of her back in loving circles. She felt him press a kiss between her should blades and he remained there until she was done, pressing his forehead into her skin, continuing to stroke soothing circles on her back.

She became aware once her heaving had subsided that she was completely bare and although Rumplestiltskin had become quite familiar with her body after countless hours upon hours of making love, she still felt embarrassed to be so exposed like this. He must have sensed her thoughts, or felt like giving her some dignity, because the next second she was dressed in a camisole and some loose sweat pants.

“Are you alright, my love?” he questioned after she flushed the toilet and turned to him. She took notice of the white t-shirt fitted around his muscular (yet thin) torso and the boxer shorts he must have conjured onto himself. He stroked her arms as he assessed her carefully, bringing a curled finger up to her chin and tilting her head up so he could look in her eyes.

“Belle?”

“I – I’m not sure. I hadn’t thrown up in a while, I was sure it had passed for good a week ago.”

“A week ago?” he asked with worry, sliding his fingers across her skin to gently caress her cheek in his palm. “Have you been feeling sick, sweetheart?”

“I don’t know…I suppose. I’ve been throwing up and getting upset over the silliest little things, and –” it hit her then and she gasped in realization. All of these symptoms, the sickness and the emotions and the cravings and the tender breasts, they all began to occur within the last month and she had attributed it to being upset at Rumplestiltskin’s absence, but now… Now she grasped what was truly going on.

They had made love the morning he left and shortly following that day the symptoms had begun to occur. Her hands, seeming to have a mind of their own, immediately caressed her stomach through the camisole and she could _swear_ she felt a small bump growing there, one she had never noticed before.

Rumple seemed to understand what was going on and he gasped too, gently entwining their hands on top of her stomach.

“Are you sure?.... Do you truly think –”

“Maybe,” she interrupted, finally looking into his eyes, and he looked right back, “Could you…could you check?”

He nodded, gently releasing her hands, “Yes, of course.” He stepped around her, retrieving a toothbrush and some toothpaste from the medicine cabinet above the sink. “Here. Go ahead and use these while I prepare the potion.”

Once he stepped out of the small bathroom and into the backroom, Belle brushed her teeth almost mindlessly; she was grateful the bitter taste in her mouth was gone, but other than that she couldn’t think of much else.

A baby… She and Rumplestiltskin were going to have a baby. Belle had this feeling deep in her core; call it would woman’s intuition or what have you, but it was the only thing that made sense at the moment, this child, created from her and Rumple’s True Love, growing inside of her.

Once she finished cleansing her mouth from the vile aftertastes of morning sickness (as she could now appropriately define it), she slipped out to check on her husband’s progress. The work table was littered with vials and ingredients and Rumple was bent over the table mixing a final liquid into the vial he held before he set it down with careful diligence.

She found it somewhat amusing to see him working on potions in his boxer shorts; in the past the closest she came to such a display was his tight leather pants as he worked in the tallest tower in the Dark Castle or when he removed his jacket and waistcoat back in Storybrooke and his muscles were faintly visible through the thin fabric of his shirt.

“Is it ready?” she questioned with a slightly humorous smile that he couldn’t see.

“Almost. The only ingredient left is a hair from each of us, and then it will tell us what we want to know.”

She carded her fingers through the long, silky strands of her hair, curling her fingers to capture any loose strands. Rumple did the same as she stepped towards him and he gently plucked the hair from the fingers she extended out to him. He carefully slipped both strands into the vial.

Gripping his hand, they both watched with baited breath as the strands of hair dissolved in the swirling purple substance.

“How…how will we know?” She leaned her head against his arm, watching the potion work its magic with calculating eyes.

“If you _are_ …carrying our child…the liquid in this vial will be a bright, golden color and if not, it will remain the same.”

“How long do you think it will take?” she didn’t know if she could stand here in silence with him wondering and waiting for too long.

“At the most, five minutes. It really shouldn’t be too long a wait.”

She nodded her head.

“Do you –” he turned to face her, “do you want us to have a baby?” And that waver of uncertainty and doubt and worry caused her heart to ache that he would ever think she wouldn’t want _this_ with him.

“Of course!” she grabbed ahold of him and her voice quieted to a low, sincere murmur at her next words, “You know I want to start a family with you.”

“I figured you wouldn’t want to carry the spawn of the Dark One,” he spoke vehemently though she knew his disgust wasn’t intended to be directed at her but himself.

She sighed softly, shaking her head at him in disbelief.

“Rumplestiltskin,” she said in a scolding tone, her hands reached up to caress his cheeks, a hint of stubble patterning across his skin from days without shaving. She brushed his cheekbones with her thumbs, bringing her face closer so their eyes were the only thing within one another’s view. “ _I love you_ …I want us to have a baby…and _when_ we do,” she smiled brightly, “they’ll be the product of True Love…” Tears glistened in her sweet spinner’s eyes at her sincere sentiments and as her proclamation progressed they only managed to intensify, a stray one escaping and running down his cheek, which she lovingly brushed away. “He or she will be beautiful and I will love them… no matter what.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” he smiled softly and tilted his head to kiss her and she was about to embrace those warm, soft, inviting lips when an intense, golden light shone in the corner of her eye. Rumple seemed to notice it too because he stopped, pulling his head back, and they both released a collective sound of utter joy and bewilderment as they turned to look at the vial on the worktable.

“Rumple,” her own eyes glistened with tears now as her belief was truly confirmed and she laughed in contentment. He cried his own joy as well and their lips met almost of their own accord. It took them a moment to lock their lips just right against the wide grins spreading across both of their faces, but once they managed, Belle could feel an entirely new sob building in her chest as she felt his pure joy and love through the kiss.

“My beautiful, perfect Belle,” he murmured against her, “I – I’m going to be a father again,” she knew the memory of Bae’s death was still fresh in his mind, as it always would be, and it warmed her all the way to her very soul to know that she would be gifting him with such a thing as fatherhood again. She could give him a second chance and she knew this time he wouldn’t fail. And Rumplestiltskin, whether he knew it or not, was giving her a gift of her own. She had always loved children, had always wanted her own, and to know that she would finally be granted just that, that she was going to have a baby with her True Love and that this child would be half of Rumplestiltskin, filled her with such a joy she could scarcely contain it.

“And I’m going to be a mother,” she spoke after they ceased their intense kissing. She smiled at the prospect of Rumple adoring her while she held their child, and vice versa. She couldn’t wait to start this journey with him.

“Are you happy? Truly, truly happy?” he asked in all seriousness.

She released a mixture of a sob, a sigh, and a laugh as she nodded her head frantically, looping her arms around his neck and kissing him deeply once again. She felt his warm fingertips ghost across her stomach through the thin camisole, stroking the small, almost unnoticeable bump that grew there, and she felt a newfound lust for him develop inside of her.

“Now,” she looked up at him once they parted for air, “take these ridiculous clothes off of us and make love to me again,” she nipped at his bottom lip before he could capture her lips in another searing embrace

“Again?” he asked, but she knew he was teasing.

“Unless –”she ran her hands down his chest slowly, irritated that the white cotton shirt barred her from feeling the sweet warmth of his skin. Her hands found the growing bulge in his boxer shorts and she squeezed gently, causing him to jerk in her palm. A groan rumbled through the column of his throat. “– you don’t want to?” she asked in a voice that intoned she was saddened by the thought but they both knew she was only teasing him back.

Playing along, he shook his head, removing his hands from her stomach. “And if I don’t want to…what’ll you do?” she could have sworn he bit his lip for a brief second and she felt a wetness begin to develop between her legs. She took a step away from him and it nearly killed her to do so but she knew all of this teasing would be worth it in the end.

“If you won’t make love to me right now…” she pretended to think, though she knew she herself couldn’t agree to any terms she came up with, let alone Rumple. “…then you won’t be able to make love to me for the rest of this pregnancy. Not here and not in Storybrooke. Not even in the shop, or the library, or the car, or the cabin, or even Granny’s.”

He laughed, “You’ll have to do better than that, dearie. Besides, I’m willing to bet I’d last a lot longer than you.”

“Alright…no sex _and_ you have to sleep in the shop during the entire pregnancy, alone. And finally…I’ll make Granny quadruple the cost of pickles. Just for you.”

She had to fight to stifle a laugh as Rumplestiltskin feigned mock hurt at her words, and he barely managed to keep a straight face as he disbelieving questioned her. “You would…you would do _that_? To _me_?”

And that was when their charade ended because Belle nearly doubled over on the floor in fits of laughter and he followed shortly afterwards. She couldn’t deny that she had missed this with all of her heart. The light-sided, playful, humorous part of her husband was foreign and unknown to everyone else but it was a part of the man before her that she deeply treasured. She had missed these jokes, the teasing and the laughs and the smirks and the endearments. It had truly been too long since they had been together like this.

And now they had their child growing between them, too.

Forgetting their jests, they wound their arms around one another, still alight with laughter as they kissed tenderly, and Belle heard the snap of his fingers and suddenly all of her clothes were gone as he obliged her request.

“ _Finally_ ,” she mumbled and she felt him smirk against her lips as he tightened his hold on her. She realized his clothes were gone as well and whimpered when she felt the warmth of his skin flush with hers and then she was gasping when she felt the hardness of his member prodding into her as he pulled her towards him.

They stumbled back towards the cot and Belle laid down once the back of her knees hit the thin mattress. The sheets were still warm from before as she laid down and shifted into a more comfortable position. Kneeling between her legs, her sweet, handsome husband leaned down and pressed a kiss against her stomach while he stroked it softly with his fingertips and she nearly burst into tears when he murmured _I love you both so much_ between his kisses.

Once he pulled away from her stomach, he gently grabbed her thighs and slid her down the sheets towards him until he was teasing her entrance with the tip of his cock. He leaned forward and caressed her beautiful face with tender kisses and she stroked his hair in adoration. He slid a hand down between her thighs, stroking his fingers through her wetness and stimulating her clit with his thumb before parting her folds with his member and sliding inside of her with ease. She cried into his mouth as he claimed her lips and they thrusted against each other, already desperate for release.

It wasn’t long before her orgasm had built insider her core and she came apart in his arms. As her walls clenched around him in the most quintessential fashion, the Dark One was reduced to a shaking mess as he gasped and moaned her name into the skin of her throat. The fluttering of her tight walls as her orgasm consumed her brought Rumplestiltskin’s to the brink and he gushed spurt after spurt of his hot seed into her.

“Oh, Belle,” he mumbled after a moment as he laid atop her with his sweaty forehead pressed into her collarbone. He tried to move off of her so he didn’t crush her with his weight, but Belle honestly couldn’t care less and wrapped her arms around his shoulders tightly, pressing a kiss to his damp hair as they struggled to catch their breath. His cock began to soften inside of her again as they held each other blissfully in the afterglow.

“I love you,” he mumbled after a while, pressing light, lingering kisses to her sweaty skin.

“I love you, too.”

He tried to roll off of her again and she let him. He slipped out of her as he collapsed onto his back but the next moment she felt his arms pulling her closer to him, her head cradled against his frantic heartbeat and she listened to it steadily beat out his love for her.


	3. Part 3

They laid contently in the afterglow of their intense lovemaking and Rumplestiltskin wondered how something as wonderful as this – lying here in Belle’s warm arms – could exist in such a terrible place. His True Love shifted in his embrace as she tucked her face into his neck, pressing a kiss to his Adam’s apple, and he was left in wonderment as he always was at the angel that lay in his arms.

She curled her small body closer into his side, hitching her leg up and wrapping it around his midsection. He reached an arm over and grabbed the sheet he had conjured over them earlier, tossing it across their bodies to give them some decency and warmth. He knew though that no one would find them in such an intimate position; he had placed a spell around the shop just before they made love the first time so he would know if someone was coming to interrupt them. He had become well aware of the fact that most of the people here in the Underworld did not think too kindly of him, especially the likes of Peter Pan, Cora, and Milah, and this made him worry that Belle was in great danger so long as she was here.

He couldn’t even begin to count the number of souls that were down here that hadn’t crossed paths with the Dark One at least once. They all would most assuredly want his blood and for most of them Belle would suit their needs if they saw or if they knew just how much he loved her. He wouldn't let anyone get to her so long as she was here.

Turning his attention back to Belle, he smiled as he felt the pads of her fingertips gently brushing across the patch of hair running from his chest to his navel. And that was when he saw it. He wasn’t quite sure how he hadn’t noticed it before, but none the less, here it was before him now, glistening proudly atop the third finger of her left hand, declaring their love and their marriage to everyone.

_She still had it._

He thought she would have gotten rid of it the moment she found out about the fake dagger, about his deceit that lead to her banishing him from his home, from his life, and even from his only child’s grave. He didn’t hold that against her though, she had been devastated and, as always, thinking about what was best for those unworthy _Heroes_ , who never showed her an ounce of appreciate or care, rather than for them.

His thoughts went to the skin of her stomach that was caressing his hip and his searching fingers trailed down her neck and across her breasts until he came to her stomach, gently stroking the skin with the tips of his fingers. Now that he knew the product of their love grew inside of her, he could swear he felt a small bump that wasn’t there when they made love earlier. Belle jerked in his arms and giggled at the tickling sensation, causing a smile to grace the feared Dark One’s lips. He pressed a kiss to her hair, a tightness developing in his chest at the sheer love he felt for this incredible woman.

“I love you so much, my Belle,” he whispered.

She propped herself up on her elbow, an affectionate smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. As she shifted her body against him, he felt her soft curls brush against his hip bone and he groaned loudly, feeling himself twitch under her thigh in pleasure. She laughed, clearly feeling the movement against her skin, tilting her head up for a kiss.

“I love you, too, Rumple,” her stunning blue eyes glistened with love and their lips met pleasantly. Bringing a hand up, he tucked her silky, brunette hair behind her ear, brushing his fingers against the skin of her cheek before cupping it in his palm. She carded a hand through his hair, cradling him as they shared several more passionate kisses.

“And our little girl,” Rumple added once their lips separated, “I love our little girl, too,” he smiled down into her eyes as a lilting laugh escaped from her throat at his sentiment.

“A girl, huh? And how would you know this? Is there something you’re not telling me, Rumplestiltskin?” She tried to sound serious but she couldn’t hide the teasing in her voice or the smile tugging at her lips as she tried to suppress another laugh.

“I just have a feeling,” he stroked his fingers through her hair, “I’ll be fine either way, but a girl would be a pleasant change; there’s been too many wee lads in this twisted family tree. My boy, Henry, and now the Charming’s baby. I would quite rather have a little you running around.”

She laughed at that, telling him she’d be fine either way too. She mentioned how sweet it would be to have a little Rumple running around and he couldn’t tell if she truly meant it or only said it for his benefit. He didn’t want to know, so he didn’t ask, instead wrapping her tighter in his arms as they kissed again.

The cot is relatively small so they are forced to huddle together as closely as they can so Rumple isn’t shoved into the wall and Belle isn’t half hanging over the edge of the mattress, but he doesn’t mind. There’s only one pillow, so as they shift so they are both lying on their sides to face each other their lips are only scant inches apart and it makes it rather simple to crane his neck and resume kissing his beautiful wife. And just as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pushed past his lips with her tongue to deepen the kiss, he feels a familiar vibration in the air surrounding the shop and he groaned internally, pulling away, begrudgingly, from Belle as he focused on the shield surrounding the shop. He could sense people’s energy, or their essence, if you could call it that. Skilled practitioners of magic had the ability to discern these energies in individuals and so long as they could match the energy to the person, they could sense who was near, something more necessary than one not wielding magic could realize. Rumplestiltskin knew the energies of everyone that accompanied him to the Underworld (or, perhaps more accurately, who made _him_ accompany _them_ ).

So when he felt this strange essence outside the shop he was immediately curious and immediately worried. He couldn’t put a name, let alone a face, to the energy, so whoever was outside of the shop was more likely than not an enemy of his, and that would make Belle a target.

“Rumple?” Belle was stroking his cheek, searching his eyes for an answer to his sudden reaction. Her accent was laced with worry so he quickly replied.

“Everything’s fine, sweetheart. It’s just…” he paused, turning his head to the half-open curtain that separated the front of the shop from the back as he studied the energy more closely. Why did it seem familiar? He knew that most people in the Underworld that were here had dealt with him before, but he couldn’t place any of them with this energy. He didn’t remember every person he crossed paths with, nor their energies, not unless it was vital to him that he remember them for later. So why was this one energy so pertinent in his mind yet he couldn’t recall who it belonged to?

“Someone is outside the shop,” he finished.

She seemed to have misunderstood because she stood from the bed, a half-amused, half-annoyed look crossing her features. “Who is it now? Emma? Regina? The Charmings? We’re not even in Storybrooke and they still manage to interrupt us at the most inconvenient time.” She moved to retrieve her clothes and it took quite some effort on Rumplestiltskin’s part not to gape at her as she stood before him naked, bending over – _Gods, that part killed him_ – and dressing quickly.

“No, no not the Heroes…someone else.”

“Who?” she halted for only a moment, a concerned look crossing her features and no doubt her mind went the same place his did: to the perfect little human growing inside of her. “Do they – do they want to hurt us?” She placed a hand on her stomach and her concern creased her brow even further.

“I don’t know,” he stood from the cot too and flicked his wrist to magic his finely pressed suit back onto his body. “Hey,” he murmured when he saw that her concern hadn’t lessened. He wrapped her in his arms, “I won’t let anyone hurt you or our child. I promise you.”

She smiled at him but it didn’t reach her eyes, which were still clouded with an unmistakable amount of concern. Once she was finished dressing, he took ahold of her hand and they cautiously made their way out the front door of the shop, the little bell jingling loudly enough that he felt Belle jump beside him.

“It’s alright, my love.”

Right as the door swung shut behind them, Rumple could make out the silhouette of a man standing across the otherwise empty street and he moved so his broad body blocked Belle from this intruder. As the reddish haze began to clear, he could make out the man across from him more clearly. He certainly didn’t recognize him, but something in the back of his brain kept telling him this man’s essence was familiar to him. Just as his eyes roamed over the quiver at the man’s back and the bow in his grip – confirming he was a threat to Belle and their child – the man’s gaze shifted to Belle’s half concealed form and he saw recognition light his face.

“Belle!” he called loudly.

He heard her gasp, moving behind him so she could see the man as well. “…Gaston?!”

_Her betrothed_ , he immediately realized, and now he knew why the energy stood out so strongly to him. He had never much cared for the man, especially when he tried to steal Belle away from him just as soon as he began to fall in love with her.

Belle moved so they stood shoulder to shoulder, “what are you doing here? What – what happened to you?”

“I–” Gaston paused and Rumple felt his gaze momentarily shift in his direction as he observed the man beside his used-to-be-future-bride. He saw when the pieces clicked together and the energy surrounding Gaston began to radiate off of him in waves of anger as he discerned that Mr. Gold was the impish Dark One who made a deal with Lord Maurice for Belle.

“You,” Gaston growled and he skillfully drew an arrow from his quiver, fixing it to his bow and aiming it at him. “You’re still holding her captive, beast...even in _death_?”

“He’s not holding me captive,” Belle spoke up, “We fell in love while I served him and…now we’re married… We’re True Love.” She declared that last part proudly, almost as an after-thought, and he felt a smile tugging at the corner of his lips involuntarily.

But her words seemed to upset him further and he pulled the string back more tautly, “Y-You _made_ her fall in love with you, demon?”

“He’s not a demon,” his love proclaimed.

“Look around you, Belle! Do you know where you are? Where _we_ are? Have you stopped to wonder how I ended up here? How you did?”

Rumple winced; he hadn’t wanted Belle to figure out that particular piece of history. Whether she despised Gaston or not, she would be furious to learn of what he had done. The Dark One was more than pleased, but the man, the humble spinner who was filled with love and had sacrificed his life for his True Love and his son, was sorry for what he’d done.

“I – I came here of my own accord…to be with my husband…but you-” she stopped herself short and he could practically hear the gears turning in her head as she realized her once-betrothed had met his demise.

“Yes. I died,” he took a step off of the sidewalk, his bow still aimed at the pair and the pawnbroker didn’t like the fact that if Gaston’s aim was off by even a hair he could possibly hit Belle. “After you left your father and me, I tracked you down to the Dark One’s castle. I was willing to battle him to win you back. But this _beast_ turned me into a rose. His Dark Magic killed me. I haven’t moved on yet because I have yet to save you. That’s my unfinished business, Belle. Saving you from this demon.”

“Why do you look different?” she questioned in a wavering voice and Rumple wrapped an arm around her waist to comfort her. He had a nagging suspicion as to why this man who was Gaston but wasn’t at the same time was in a new body and that was mainly the reason for his arm to tighten its hold on Belle.

“You cut me in half, Belle,” Gaston murmured and Rumple could see he didn’t want Belle to learn the truth of it either. Rather decent of him, Rumplestiltskin thought. Belle tensed against his arm and she gasped and she recalled the rose he had presented to her, the one she took a pair of rusty scissors to, to cut the over-lengthened stem in half (Gaston had been a tall) and place in a small vase on the long dining table.

“Gaston…I – I am so, so sorry, I–”

“I have never held that against you, Belle. The only one at fault is _him_ ,” Gaston snarled.

He felt her shift away from him as she realized what his actions had wrought and it broke his heart at that prospect. Wanting to do better by her, by their child, by Baelfire, and especially for the man that he was deep down, he dropped his arm away from her and looked at Gaston. He heard the whispers of the Dark One’s telling him to forget absurd apologies and shave off the man’s hair with a fireball or two but as a new, more-powerful and free host of the Dark One he was able to suppress the whispers and let all of himself speak without its interference.

“For that…I am truly sorry. I was lost in darkness. I had no restraint, no remorse…until Belle,” he cast a warm, adoring smile to his wife, his brief flicker of light in an ocean of darkness, “She became my light, she snuffed out the darkness with her pureness and I will forever be grateful of her for saving me.”

He looked at her as he spoke and she gazed back at him the whole time, blinking as she processed his words until a smile lit her face and she wrapped her fingers around his.

“Enough of this!” Gaston bellowed. “You’re lying. That’s what the Dark One does. I will never believe a word you say,” his eyes turned to Belle, “I don’t know what evil spell he has placed on you, but I will save you this time, Belle. I won’t let him hold you against your will any longer.” He let loose the arrow and it hurdled towards Rumplestiltskin’s chest.

“No!” Belle cried out beside him, but she needn’t worry. The power of all the Dark Ones coursing through his veins heightened his senses and he was able to slow down the arrow just enough to clutch the shaft in his hand, the arrowhead only centimeters from his heart.

He released a laugh without even realizing it, feeling the tremendous, new power flowing freely through his veins. He examined the arrow between his fingers for a moment before turning it into dust in his palm, letting it scatter in the wind.

“You're going to regret that, dearie,” he spoke as he stepped toward a startled Gaston, who had expected to finally best the imp. Just when he felt the power surge inside of him for the kill, his thoughts drifted to Belle who stood several steps behind him. The thought of his True Love quelled the bloodlust of the Dark One and Rumplestiltskin let her light cleave him from his brief moment of weakness. Now he was happy for a whole new reason. Would it really be as simple as this from now on? Just one thought of Belle and he could remain pure of intentions?

Belle stepped between the two after a second and extended both of her hands in a placating gesture. She urged for him to stop but he had already intended to. “Look, we all have history here…Gaston, please…lower the bow,” she pleaded, turning to solely face him, “Rumple is a changed man. He’s not the same person we met in my father’s war room. I swear to you he means me no harm. He loves me, and I love him. We’re going to have a child together.” Rumple saw her hand reach towards her stomach and he supposed he was too wrapped up in her sweet words for the moment to notice Gaston’s rage reach its zenith.

“ _You disgusting monster_!” and he loosened another arrow in the blink of an eye and Belle was too close. There was more of a chance of her being hit than him. Acting more on instinct than thought he wrapped his arms around Belle, swung her around, and teleported them in a swirl of purple smoke across town to the docks. The moment he released her, he felt a searing pain shooting through his chest and it hurt to breathe. The arrow was embedded deeply within his back and when he glanced down it was also protruding from his chest. If he wasn’t the Dark One, he would be dead in minutes.

His little Belle turned around to face him, still scanning the docks to make sure Gaston didn’t magic here with them.

“Rumple!” he saw tears spring to her eyes as they roamed over his chest and she brought a hand up to caress his cheek in her palm.

“It’s–” if he thought the pain from breathing was bad, than he didn’t know how to classify the pain from talking, “– alright…love…Dark One…can’t die…s-still hurts.” He brought a hand up to his chest and let it hover there, vanishing the arrow before letting a golden wave of magic wash through the wound and stitch everything back together. The only pain remaining was simply the reminder and he was thankful that it was him who had taken the arrow and not Belle.

“Rumplestiltskin…you took an arrow for me…for our baby,” she whispered.

“I would have given my life, too...if I needed to…I promised I would keep you both safe and I intend to keep it.”

She kissed him roughly and sweetly at the same time and he melted in her embrace on the docks in the Underworld, not caring that he was supposed to be finding a way to save Miss Swan’s good-for-nothing pirate.

She pulled away from his lips and gave him the most glorious, breathtaking smile before she pressed her face into his neck and mumbled, “My handsome hero,” and he knew exactly what she was referring to. He knew about her most favorite book, the first one she had ever picked up to read. It was the singular story that started her on this life-long journey of finding even more stories to explore. The story itself in her book had been simple, another finely-spun tale of an ordinary man who wins the heart of the princess through his bravery. Knowing that Belle would call him such a thing made his heart swell with joy.

She had never called him her hero…ever.

No one had.

All his life, even as the Dark One, he had been called a coward but now here she was, his True Love, clutching onto him tightly and calling him her hero, their growing child pressed between their bodies as they held each other, and nothing had ever felt better than that single moment. Rumplestiltskin placed a kiss to her hair, murmuring how much he loved her, and he knew things between them were only going to get better from then on.


End file.
